The West Wing: Inside the Seaborn Administration
by LiterateSamwise
Summary: This is the sequel to Campaign Trail: Seaborn and McShane. They've won the White House, what could go wrong?
1. Equivelant

Disclaimer: Anything you don't recognize is mine. Everything you *DO* recognize most likely belongs to Aaron Sorkin. Anything that doesn't belong to him or me belongs to respective parties.  
  
A/N: This is the Sequel to Campaign Trail: Seaborn and McShane  
  
  
  
From the West Wing:  
Inside the Seaborn Administration  
  
by Tatt Skywalker  
  
  
  
  
  
  
Equivelant:  
  
  
  
The story of the Seaborn Administration is, by Hollywood standards, a equivelant to an action/adventure flick with just enough drama and romance to draw in an adult crowd along side the teens, hoping to see some speacal effects and gore. Things happened during that administration that would make those viewers shout with glee. And through it all, the explosions and situations, we were there. Through the fog and into the courtrooms. All of us, doing our part to make the government work.  
  
This is not all about me. It's about us all and everything we did.  
  
It's about Gregory Tymes, about Lisa Morris, Jenna Clark, Ron Timmons... the Moore boys... and the rest of us. We meer shadows in the staunce of the President and our duties.  
  
January of 2016 changed everything for all of us. Now, if I'd known what would happen over the years, I may have backed down. I may have run in fear. Sometimes, looking back on those memories... I wish I had.  
  
  
-- "Seaborn's 1600" by Scott V. Wildman, former US Senator 


	2. First Crisis

First Crisis:  
  
  
  
POV of Gregory Tymes:  
  
  
  
Why was I the first problem that the Seaborn administration? I remember clearly, the day my old deputy left he said, "Don't cause them any problems, Greg. And... learn to like people. The whole hate thing doesn't suit you." I only wish now that I'd listened to him.  
  
On another note, why the hell did they start tours of the White House? Who ever decided it was a good idea had better hope I never get my hands on them...  
  
Right... back to January 2016...  
  
  
DATE: 1/25/2016  
  
  
A week after the inauguration, White House tours began. It was the second year . Normally I'd stay in the West Wing and never venture into the path of tourists. But I was stuck showing two new interns around, two former campaigners, Petey Garrison and Sean Bower. Petey was the one who annoyed me the most. He was always asking question. Now don't get me wrong, he's a great kid but, I put sole blame on him for what happened and everything that followed... even though no one else does.  
  
We were walking past the Blue Room, the furniture was still missing from when the Christmas tree had been put up and, of course, Petey had inquired about that.  
  
What else could I do but answer him? I was supposed to be showing him around.  
  
"They stick the Christmas tree in there," he told him. "You wait until Christmas. Best time of the year around here."  
  
"Look!" I heard a tour guide shouted and saw her pointing at me. "The Communications Director of the White House."  
  
She was flocked by several adults and atleast ten kids. I knew right away this was going to be trouble when the Secret Service agent behind them gave me a sympathetic look.  
  
"What's a communication director?" a little boy with few teeth and those he did have were plagued by cavities.  
  
"I write speeches," I told him. There was a *lot* more to my job than just that but from the looks of that kid, there was no way he'd ever be able to comprehend it.  
  
A prissy little girl in a frilly dress came up behind him. "You sit around writing all day?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
"They *pay* you for that," a man, few teeth and those he did have full of cavities, obviously the one boy's father, grunted.  
  
I nodded. "Yes."  
  
The man rolled his eyes.  
  
"How much?" a woman in a suit asked. On seeing her and her note pad I *knew* she was trouble.  
  
"Enough," Greg told her. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I have to finish showing these two here around the White House so I can go back to sitting down and writing."  
  
We kept walking, the quiet Petey having learned from my rudeness to the tourists. "I hate people," I muttered as we walked away.  
  
  
***  
  
POV of Petunia Goshhook:  
  
  
  
I couldn't believe the man, he was horrible. Those two darling children, the future and hope of the supreme reign of the human species. I was sure to click on my recorder to make a reference of his disrespect to them as his day would come.  
  
He was trouble. Pure evil. I knew it the first time I laid eyes on him.  
  
And you'll never believe what he did next!  
  
He openly admitted to his two companions, evil as well, though they were only his minions, that he hated people. Can you believe that? He said "I hate people!"  
  
I was thuroughly shocked that an anti-humanist could be on the White House staff. It was apalling. But I went along, continuing the tour. I learned his name that way: Gregory Tymes. And the people talked about him as if he was normal! The entire White House! Evil!  
  
Once the tour was done, I left that evil place immediatly. I sat in my car a few moments to get my wits about me then drove to The Leader's house. He told us that we much report any actions that disregard the supremity of the human race. That man most certaintly did that and so did those governmental people by treating him as an equal.  
  
Well, I played the tape for The Leader and he too was shocked. He'd always said the US government supported their beliefs in supremity. Now he was finding he was wrong.  
  
That night we had an emergancy meeting. My tape was played for everyone and I was so happy that everyone was eager to lash out at the government for hiring the man. The Leader said it might be an accident and they may have been too ignorant to realize the mans wickedness.  
  
So we sent a letter.  
  
  
***  
  
POV of Jefferson Moore:  
  
  
DATE: 1/28/2016  
  
  
  
Very little of the mail addressed to the POTUS actually gets seen by him. I saw a lot more of the Seaborn administration letters than the President did. How the letter from Petunia Goshhook ever made it through, unread and uninvestigated, to this day is unknown.  
  
I opened the envelope, breaking the weirdest looking seal ever concieved. A hand with the world in it and a big H in the background. The seal, for some reason scared me. And with three siblings teaching me their Secret Service ways, I don't scare easily.  
  
The letter inside sent a shiver down my spine. I don't remember the entire message, and the letter itself was later... destroyed.  
  
What I do remember were the words "Supreme", "Human race", "Evil", "White House", "Government", "Anti-Humanist", "will take actions", and... the name Gregory Tymes. I'd been warned about letters like this, saying the government was evil and democracy was the way of the devil and such. But... this letter...  
  
I wasn't sure what I was supposed to do. I sat looking down at the letter for a while, not moving. I was vaguely aware of a buzzing sound but my attention was drawn to the source of my fear.  
  
"Jeff," someone said. But I didn't turn. And it wasn't because of my slight hearing impediment. I couldn't bring myself to turn.  
  
"Jeff! JEFF!"  
  
That last call got my attention and I turned to see White House Chief of Staff, Joshua Lyman standing by my desk.  
  
"The President wants you... What?"  
  
He must have picked up on my fear to aske me what was wrong so I handed him the letter. I watched as he rad it and his face dropped.  
  
"Where's the envelope, Jeff?" he asked me in a dark voice.  
  
I grabbed the envelope and shakily handed it to him. He nodded and said, "Jeff, the President wants you." Then he walked off with the letter and envelope. I wasn't sorry to see them go.  
  
  
***  
  
POV of President Samuel Seaborn:  
  
  
  
Now, when my aide walked in, it was clearly obvious that something was wrong. Ever since I'd met the kid, there hadn't been a time when he didn't carry himself like his siblings. All being in the Secret Service, and him having planned to, he knew all about hiding fear and acting quick. If not for an accident which blinded him in his right eye, he'd have been on my detail along with his sister.  
  
I'd been planning on having him run a speech down for Greg and Lisa to go over but when I saw him, the speech was the last thing I was worried about.  
  
"What's wrong, Jeff?"  
  
He didn't look very certain. Like maybe he shouldn't tell me. What ever it was had spooked him.  
  
"Jeff?"  
  
"Just a letter, Mr. President," Jeff had answered.  
  
I gave him a skeptic look. "What was *in* the letter?"  
  
"I think they're going to kill Greg," he blurted out. "Something about him being Anti-Humanist and evil and so are we because he works he-"  
  
I placed my hands on his shoulders and shook him slightly. "You're rambling," I told him.  
  
Jeff nodded. "Yes, sir." He took a deep breath. "It said that Greg hated people and he was evil and we were evil, too. Because he worked here. That humans are supreme and Greg doesn't believe that and that they'd... take actions if Greg kept working here."  
  
"Where is this letter?" I asked. I'd been in office less than two weeks and already someone was threatening my staff.  
  
"Mr. Lyman has it, sir."  
  
I handed Jeff the speech and had him run it to Greg and Lisa. Once he'd left, I called for Max and had him find Josh for me. If one of my staffers was a risk, I wanted to know.  
  
  
***  
  
POV of Joshua Lyman  
  
  
  
Right away I took the letter to the White House Secret Service detail. Sure, it wasn't a threat to the President directly but it was clearly a threat to Greg and, if he'd read the letter correctly, everyone.  
  
Castor Blackwell was the head of the White House Secret Service during the Seaborn administration. I burst into his office, disregarding his meeting with one of his agents and threw the letter down on his desk in anger.  
  
"How could something like this get through?" I asked, angrily. "Did someone investigate this or not?"  
  
Blackwell read the letter and I saw his eyes widen. "Who sent this?" he asked. "I'll get someone on it."  
  
I handed him an evelope with no return address. "Honestly, Blackwell. You're supposed to find out about these things. This thing scared the shit out of Jeff. Hell, out of me as well."  
  
There was a knocking at the door and we both looked to see Agent Maxwell Bannerman standing there. "Sorry, sirs," he said. "But the President wished to see you, Mr. Lyman."  
  
"Jeff must have told him," I said. "Look," I ordered. "Find out about this. We don't need some humanistic cult after us."  
  
Blackwell nodded and I left, flanked by Max.  
  
We walked up to the Oval Office, still angry that such a letter could go uninvestigated. Wouldn't someone saying a White House member was evil and saying they would take actions against the government warrent some alarm?  
  
The two of us walked past Mrs. Campbell, the secretary, at her desk and entered the Oval Office.  
  
"What's going on, Josh?" Sam asked me.  
  
"I'm not sure," I answered. "An unsigned letter with no return address claiming that Greg Tymes hates people, that he's evil, and that they'll 'take actions' if he stays with the staff. Blackwell is having it checked out."  
  
"Should we be worried?"  
  
"I don't think so," I answered though I *was* worried. "Probably not."  
  
"Probably?" Sam aksed.  
  
"It's probably just some crazy lunatic who thinks he is God or something," I told him. "In a few days the Secret Service will have it figured out."  
  
  
***  
But a few days passed. Then a week. Despite the letter being hand written, they couldn't match it up and there were no finger prints or saliva on the envelope for them to run through the computers. They were drawing dead ends everyway they turned.  
  
A frustrated Blackwell, closed the case on Febuary 5, 2016.  
  
Then, on Febuary 8th, the second letter arrived.  
*** 


	3. Warnings

Warnings:  
  
  
  
DATE: 2/8/2016  
  
  
POV of Castor Blackwell:  
  
  
  
The second letter arrived eight days after the first. I remember one of my agents walked into the office, his hands bandaged up because of papercuts and stabbing himself with the letter openers. He handed me an envelope with no return address and the same seal that had been on the last one.  
  
I read it, the same key points as the last one, except this time and I quote this one section, "You've yet to let loose the evil Tymes and we shall give but one more warning before we set the wraith of human supremity unto this evil administration." As you can imagine, I was ticked. I'd just closed this investigation yet here it was, back again to haunt me.  
  
And that was a clear threat. Everyone knew that Seaborn wouldn't fire Greg and Greg himself was too stubborn to quit just because of threats from some unknown psycho.  
  
I dismissed the agent and picked up the phone, dialing Josh's number. I got through quickly, Josh's assistant being one of the few of us that knew what was going on.  
  
"What? I was on with the Secretary of State."  
  
"We got another letter," I told him. "Same seal, no return address. Definate threat on Mr. Tymes. In my opinion anyways."  
  
"Finger prints? DNA?" Josh inquired.  
  
"We don't know yet," I answered.  
  
Josh sighed. "Keep me posted."  
  
"Yes, sir."  
  
I listened as he set the reciever down and then I followed through.  
  
We'd sent the letter down to the lab and we were hoping to get some better results. Or atleast find out if it was the same person and not a group. God, how I wish it had been the first scenario.  
  
  
***  
  
POV of Greg Tymes:  
  
  
DATE: 2/10/2016  
  
  
  
I was the target of a Pro-Human cult. Honestly the whole idea was hilarious. It was so funny I actually thought it was a joke... until I saw the letters. And how freaked out Jeff was. I mean, the Moore's are probably the bravest people I know and here was Jeff scared stiff.  
  
Once I read the letters, I was scared too.  
  
"Let me just ask you a question," Josh Lyman had said. "*Did* you say you hate people?"  
  
"I *always* say I hate people," I answered. "If your car had been stolen seven times, you wouldn't be so fond of people either."  
  
"Seven times?!" Blackwell exclaimed before Josh silenced him.  
  
Outside, I heard one of our interns, Jobey Naismith burst into laughter. I swear, I really, really disliked him but he is a good worker and the rest of the staff loved him. Why is beyond me, yet I put up with him.  
  
"This is serious here," Josh said. "Someone is really mad at you Greg. Maybe more than one. Maybe a whole bunch of someones."  
  
I nodded. The letters had confirmed what Josh was telling me. I *was* in danger. I'd ticked someone off with that comment, though with how rude I was to that tour group I had no way of knowing who.  
  
I sighed and walked around my office for a moment, taking it all in.  
  
"Well... what do I do?" I asked. "Run and hide?"  
  
"We considered that," Blackwell replied. "But it seemed to extreme. We still can't be sure if the threats in these letters can actually be followed through.  
  
"We *are* going to have an agent on you when you leave the West Wing," Josh told him. "Just when you're not home or at work.  
  
"Just as a percaution."  
  
Greg sighed. "Some psycho writes the White House some letters and I'm stuck with a babysitter."  
  
"Exactly."  
  
I glared at Blackwell.  
  
Josh sighed. "Look, Agent Yoshi Kamino is going to be on your detail," he told Greg. "Don't give him a hard time. Please."  
  
"I'll *try* not to," I said. "But I'm not making any promises."  
  
"It won't before that long," Blackwell promised. "We'll get this figured out. Don't worry."  
  
"Yeah. Right," I said and the two of them left.  
  
Someone was writing threatening letters and I was being given a babysitter. Could it get any worse? I wish I'd never found out the answer to that.  
  
  
***  
  
On Monday, Febuary 22nd, a third letter arrived. In the letter was a last warning to the government of the Unites States. The letter demanded the immediate removal of Gregory Tymes from the White House staff. The most memorable quote from the letter was "...remove Tymes or we shall execute the errand for you."  
  
***  
  
  
Director Blackwell:  
  
As you know, for the past five days I have been assigned to White House Communications Director Gregory Tymes. For those five days, Mr. Tymes has deliberatly evaded my presence and openly insulted me infront of peers and White House staff members.....  
  
I feel I am inadequit for the job at hand. Mr. Tymes obviously needs an agent experienced in protectee evasion.....  
  
Director, I request, reassignment to another protectee or reassignment back into the field. My training and talents are being wasted on this assignment and I wish to be put to better use.....   
  
  
--Excerpt of a Letter from Agent Yoshi Kamino to Director Castor Blackwell.  
Postmarked 2/25/2016.  
  
  
***  
  
POV of Josh Lyman:  
  
  
DATE: 2/29/2016  
  
  
  
"Damn it, Greg!" I shouted at the other man. "I told you not to scare your agent away."  
  
"I didn't scare him away," Greg answered. "Honestly. If he can't up with my day to day activities then he isn't fit to be in the Service, let alone my agent."  
  
"You were deliberatly avoiding him!"  
  
"I was not!"  
  
"Greg!" I yelled. "You were seen jumping into Jenna's office just as Kamino was coming to find you!"  
  
Greg groaned. "Oh, come on, Josh... I wasn't hiding or-"  
  
I slammed my fist on my desk. Greg is a great guy and if he wasn't so important to the administration, or atleast didn't know he was so important, I probably would have had him fired. Yet that would have been to the liking of the people who were threatening Greg and I couldn't comply with their wishes.  
  
I sighed and cooled down, still angry at Greg and worried about the letter we'd recieved seven days prior. Yet, Kamino hadn't reported anyone following Greg or anything else suspicious.  
  
"Look," I told him. "Go home. I'll send another agent to get you in the morning. And this one had better not complain about you."  
  
He nodded and walked out.  
  
That was almost the last time I ever saw him.  
  
  
***  
  
POV of Gregory Tymes:  
  
  
  
I didn't have a car at that time, mine still being missing. Lisa was kind enough to call a cab for me and warn me to be careful. That's how I found out that the rest of the staff was aware of the situation. I would have rathered no one else know about it but that wasn't a luxury I had. Atleast the press hadn't had any word on it. Not at that time anyways.  
  
The cabbie dropped me off at my apartment building. I walked up the three flights and opened the door. No one came to greet me, I lived alone without even a dog or cat. I had a fish tank... but it isn't like fis h are going to be happy when their owner returns home. They just swim around and after a few months, float.  
  
Food? I made a sandwich and sat down infront of CNN for a few minutes. Looking back now, I realize, I didn't have much of a life.  
  
I finished my sandwich, fed my fish and got in bed.  
  
It was easy to fall asleep, I'd learned to savor every moment I got to close my eyes in my time at the White House. I was skilled in sleeping in Press Confrences, meetings, traveling on Air Force one... hell, I've slept during an embassy bombing in the Middle East. Needless to say, I was on the other side of the building.  
  
That skill to sleep during everything was probably the reason I didn't hear the breaking glass.  
  
***  
Documented 911 call from Janyce Bekenridge:  
  
911: Hello? 911 one. What is your emergancy?  
Bekenridge: Hello? Ah, the-the apartment across from me is on fire.  
911: What is the address?  
Bekenridge: Someone threw a burning bottle up into the apartment.  
911: Ma'am? What is the address?  
Bekenridge: It's three buildings down from the intersection of 17th and M. Street.  
911: We're sending an engine over. If you'll stay on the line ma'am.  
  
Call initiated at 1:51 AM  
*** 


	4. Fires Blazing

Fires Blazing:  
  
  
  
DATE: 3/1/2016  
  
POV of Gregory Tymes:  
  
  
  
I had no idea where I was when I woke up. There was an orange haze all around and I was distantly aware of a hacking sounds. Like someone was trying to break in. I was a target to a humanistic cult and I knew someone trying to break in was bad. I tried to roll over towards the phone beside the bed but I was too groggy to move and there was a painful feeling in my left leg.  
  
The door burst open and I heard a spraying sound. My vision was still very hazy but I was aware of a figure standing above me.  
  
"Sir? Sir?"  
  
That was the last thing I heard before slipping into darkness.  
  
***  
  
POV of Firefighter Kenden Straight:  
  
  
  
When we arrived on the scene, we figured the worst. If anyone was in there, there was no way they'd still be alive. Yet, we were still obligated to go up there and see. And obviously to put the fire out.  
  
I was first into the room, followed by my engine partners Tim and Xane. We'd hacked our way in and were spraing the place down with fire extinguishers. The first thing I noticed were the dead fish in the fish tank. If there wasn't enough oxygen in the apartment to support the fish in the tank there wasn't enough to support a human life.  
  
Yet, in the bedroom, I saw movement on the bed.  
  
I raced in to find a man there, remarkabley still alive but on fire. His left leg had caught and I sprayed it and the surrounding area.  
  
"Sir? Sir?" I called out to him but there was no answer. His breathing was shallow and his pulse thready. Tim and me picked him up and raced him out of the apartment and outside into the fresh air. We got him on emergancy oxygen and called in an EMT unit.  
  
Five minutes later, we loaded him up on the ambulance.  
  
The fire was out, we found a broken bottle and smelled gasoline in the apartment. It was clearly arson. We called out an investigator from the DC police department and waited until he arrived with a Secret Service team before leaving.  
  
Pretty routine. We get calls like that a lot.  
  
***  
  
POV of Josh Lyman:  
  
  
  
It was five in the morning when the call from Blackwell saying Greg had been in a fire and was at GW. I'd just stepped out of the shower and, still wet, I pulled some clothes on. I'd woke Donna, who asked what was going on.  
  
"Someone set fire to Greg's apartment," I said, pulling my shoes and socks on.  
  
"Is he okay?" she asked worried.  
  
I shook my head. "I don't know. He's at GW."  
  
My shoes on and my hair still dripping wet, I kissed Donna good bye.  
  
I got in my car and began driving to GW as I dialed Lisa's office. She was always in the office early and I figured she might know more about what was going on. The phone rang for a few minutes before her face showed up on the VTC phone.  
  
"Josh? What's going on?" she asked.  
  
"I was hoping you knew," I answered. "I got a call from Blackwell saying Greg was in a fire. I'm heading over to GW now. Call Wil and tell him to get to the office."  
  
"Anything else?"  
  
"Yeah, I tell the President where I am," Josh said. "Best he know where his staffers are. I'll call again when I get there."  
  
Lisa nodded and then the screen went black as the call was disconnected.  
  
***  
  
POV of Lisa Morris:  
  
  
  
Sean Bower bounded into my office to get his jacket he'd left the day before. Today was one of his class days so instead of working at the White House he'd be at the University. He grabbed the jacket off the chair and looked over at me.  
  
I must have had some type of expresion on my face because he asked, "What's wrong?"  
  
"Greg."  
  
Sean's eyes widened. "They did... they didn' kill him did they?"  
  
I shook my head. "He's at GW. That's what Josh Lyman said anyways. But they take dead people to the hospital too."  
  
"Who's dead?" Wil Parks asked.  
  
"Greg," Sean replied.  
  
"What?"  
  
The three of us turned to see President Seaborn in the door way. Toby Seaborn stuck his head in cautiously.  
  
I sighed. "No one is dead," she said. "Atleast not that I've heard." Then to the President: "Greg was in a fire, sir. Someone set his apartment on fire. Josh is heading to GW to find out what is going on and he'll call when he gets there. Everyone got that? No one's dead!"  
  
Sean, Wil and the President all nodded, Seaborn with a small smile on his face. I was so embarassed... I'd just yelled at the President of the United States.  
  
"Someone's dead?" Jenna Clark asked looking in. "Great, the press is going to have a field day with this..."  
  
Outside, Jobey started laughing.  
  
"Can we fire him?" I asked.  
  
"We're looking into it," the President told me.  
  
Jobey was instantly quiet.  
  
"Okay, everyone back to work," Seaborn said. "Jenna, come with me. We're probably going to have to make a statement. Toby, why don't you go find your brothers, okay?"  
  
The little boy nodded and took off.  
  
I watched the President and Jenna leave and then glared at Sean, making him run out of the office in fear. This was not a good day.  
  
***  
  
POV of Agent Jakobi Moore:  
  
  
  
My first protection assignment in the Secret Service was to First Kid, Roger Schumer. At the time of the Tymes Incidents I was assigned to First Kid, Simon Seaborn. I was the third in my family to go into the Service: First being my sister Juline and second being my brother Johnaton.  
  
I wasn't disappointed with the assignment. Rather, I was happy to get the assignment. People don't realize how at risk the families of the Presidents are. And my brother John was assigned to Roger's brother Gil Schumer and later to Simon's twin, Donovan Seaborn, so I got to see him a lot.  
  
It was early morning, I'd just drove in with my younger brother Jeff. Director Blackwell walked up to me and said I was temporarily being reassigned.  
  
"Sir?"  
  
"We've had attempts on Mr. Tymes's life," Blackwell told me. "He's at GW in recovery and we need a new agent on him. He kept evading and annoying his last agent. You've were assigned to Roger Schumer. That alone deserves commendation and six months of paid vacation. Your experience with evasive protectees is needed in Mr. Tymes's case."  
  
I nodded. "Yes, sir."  
  
"Good, come on," he told me.  
  
"Uh... what about Simon?" I asked.  
  
"They'll tell him," Blackwell responded. "He'll get a temp agent. You'll be back on Osprey in no time."  
  
I nodded and the two of us walked out to his car and drove to George Washington. I was kinda scared, I'd heard what Yoshi had said about about Tymes.  
  
The two of us walked in and were led up to the room Tymes was in by a police officer. From what I saw in that room, it didn't look like he'd have the ability to evade me for a while.  
  
Blackwell introduced me to my new partner for the assignment, Dack Rooney. He was a young guy, twenty-three, a little over Jeff's age at the time and a little under mine. My old partner, Tiro Gasby, was staying on with the temp. Blackwell couldn't stay, he had other matters to attend to, so he left me with Dack.  
  
"Uh... how is he?" I asked Dack. Tymes was hooked up to several monitors and a breathing machine.  
  
"Second degree burns on his left leg, firefighters got it out pretty quick," Dack answered. "Lungs were pretty badly burned though. Give him a week or so. Then the fun begins."  
  
"Yeah," I said. "They kind of fun where people shoot at us and we jump infront of bullets. Fun."  
  
***  
  
That night, several members of the White House staff trekked to the local church where a small prayer service was held by the eldest Moore, Minister Jillian Moore Dennings. Many showed up, except the President who couldn't get clearance to go to such an open event.  
  
Lisa had rode in with Petey in a small motorcade with Wil, his family, and Sean trailing behind them. They got there early and sat up front, Wil's younger brother and sister, sixteen year old Benjamin Parks and fifteen year old Staci Parks, up front helping Jillian prepare.  
  
And as Jillian began the service, Lisa couldn't help but hope that Greg would be okay.  
  
*** 


	5. Mended Hearts

Mended Hearts:  
  
  
  
POV of Greg Tymes:  
  
DATE: 3/11/2016  
  
  
  
My first reaction when I saw Agent Jake Moore was, "Uh-oh." I knew right away that I'd have a hard time getting him to back off. I'd seen the kid chase down Roger Schumer before. But then I wondered, why would I want him to? I'd nearly been killed after just one night without an agent.  
  
That was when I woke up two days after the fire. After eight days in a hospital bed hanging around with Jake and getting to know Dack I decided, they weren't bad people, I just hated feeling controlled.  
  
But, on Friday the eleventh, I was released. I was freed from my bondage. Well... almost.  
  
Jake and Dack still hung around. And I couldn't use my left leg. That added to the fact that I no longer had an apartment or a fish tank.  
  
Dack brought around the car and I got in back, crutches propped up against the door. Jake got in the passenger's seat and I sighed. It was going to take a LONG time for me to get used to their following my every move.  
  
They drove me to the White House and I walked in. It was already eight at night, but I had nowhere else to go. As much as I trusted Lisa (and I'm not sure *why* I trusted Lisa) I was sure I had a stack of papers to take care of.  
  
I took off my jacket, as Sean had gone to the store and bought me a suit for when I came out of the hospital, and tossed it on the chair in the corner of my office.  
  
I loosened my tie, not sure why I'd even put one on, no one was around to see me.  
  
"Hey, Jake, Dack," I yelled out my office door. "Go home, bring the night guys around. Tell them I'm sleeping here."  
  
"Sir, you can't do-" But it was too late. I had already slammed and locked the door.  
  
***  
  
POV of Secretary of State Ronald Timmons  
  
DATE: 3/12/2016  
  
  
  
Sam made me take the day off even though we had a meeting that day. It was a Saturday and my daughter had been on Sarah to take her to the mall for the past week. Rachel was seventeen and old enough to drive herself. We just didn't trust her with the car. We figured she'd take off the first chance she got.  
  
I was extremely surprised when she asked if there was a time that they could talk. I'd asked her if Sunday was okay. She said so but didn't seem like it. So I told her we'd talk after my meeting.  
  
When I meantioned Rachel to Sam, he immediatly canceled the meeting and claimed to have had something to do with AJ.  
  
It was a lie, obviously, but he went the whole nine yards. Later that day it was announced that the President and his daughter were going to the Smithsonian.  
  
I was glad for the time I'd have with Rachel and as I said before, I was extremely surprised when she asked to talk with me. We left at ten, Zach kept trying to badger me into bringing him along as well but I told him this was the last year Rachel was my little girl and he relented.  
  
Congress was taking the day off so I drove us to the Congress building, a place I still had access to because of my early days as one of the lawmakers ::cough:: blood suckers ::cough::  
  
We sat down on the observation balcony and just sat for a little while. She didn't say anything but I could tell that she wanted to. After about ten minutes, I realized how stupid I was.  
  
"Have you told your mother?" I asked.  
  
Rachel looked at me, then realized I knew. "No."  
  
"Paul?"  
  
"It's not Paul's," she replied in a quiet voice. "We broke up a month ago."  
  
"How far?"  
  
There was a sniffling sound and I saw tears come to my daughter's eyes. "The doctor said three weeks."  
  
Doctor. The first thing I thought about was the Press. And God did I regret that a second later because it was evident that Rachel picked up on that. She started sobbing and saying, "I'm so sorry, Daddy."  
  
God, I couldn't take it. Here she was feeling guilty for embarrasing me. And at some early date, I probably would have cared. But not then. Not there above the Senate Chambers with my daughter. A tear went down my cheek.  
  
I held her for a few minutes until the two of us were sure we could look at each other and not cry. She wiped her eyes.  
  
"We're going to have to tell your mother," I said. "And there are a lot of decisions to be made."  
  
Rachel nodded and the two of us walked out of the Senate building at peace with each other. We shared one secret and that secret had brought us back together.  
  
***  
  
POV of Lisa Morris  
  
  
  
It was around noon when I came in, I'd taken the morning off. Jake and Dack were sleeping in chairs outside of Greg's office when I walked up and Jenna was banging on the door, surprisingly not disturbing the agents or the office's inhabitant. After a few more minutes of banging, she threw up her hands and stalked off in anger.  
  
I walked over, my trusty keychain out, and unlocked Greg's office door. Jake and Dack immediately jumped up and their hands went to their firearms.  
  
"Down boys," Lisa said and the two agents went at ease, Dack sitting back down and Jake discretely moving into position by the door.  
  
"Greg," I said, seeing him asleep at his desk. "Greg!"  
  
He jumped up and then cursed after whacking his bad leg underneath the desk. It was all I could do to keep from laughing but I know that would just get him mad and throwing things. And we didn't need nonconventional projectiles flying around on a Saturday morning.  
  
"What?" he asked.  
  
"You're sleeping," I told him.  
  
He rubbed his eyes. "You're right. I *was* sleeping."  
  
"Well, get up."  
  
He glared at me but complied, grabbing his crutches and walking over to to where I stood. His hair was a mess and being a guy, he obviously didn't have the cosmetic appliances to fix it in his office.  
  
I left and returned with a brush, comb and mirror and set them on his desk. Then I went to work.  
  
Greg is my boss so I saw him several times during the day. We worked on a speech together. But we didn't once mention his homelessness or his injury. Didn't mean I didn't think about it.  
  
I have no idea why I cared. What had Greg Tymes ever done for me that was worth giving a damn about him?  
  
So, that night, when I was leaving at ten, I saw Jake and Dack still outside of Greg's door. I walked over and went in to see Greg getting comfortable and about to go to sleep on his chair. I looked at him and shook my head.  
  
"Come on," I said.  
  
"What?" Greg asked.  
  
I tossed him his jacket. "You can stay at my place tonight. My roommate moved out so I have an extra room and, you're gonna love this, she left her fish tank."  
  
I could tell that Greg was considering it. At that point I was considering what the hell had was going through my mind when I made the offer.  
  
"You don't mind?" he asked me.  
  
'YES!' I thought but, "No," came out.  
  
Greg tilted his head a little, like he was aware of my mental conflict and afraid to tread into the realm of Lisa. But he had nowhere else to go, hotel's were too open and too expensive to stay in for long and with his burnt leg, he'd have a hard time apartment shopping.  
  
"Well... fine," was his answer. "Thanks."  
  
My jaw dropped. He said something that wasn't offensive or annoying.  
  
Greg grabbed his things, there wasn't very much, and followed her out of the West Wing with the two agents trailing behind. As they walked towards the agents's car, Lisa wondered once more, what the hell she'd been thinking. 


	6. Idle Romance

Idle Romance:  
  
  
  
POV of Lisa Morris:  
  
DATE: 3/14/2016  
  
  
  
"What's that?" I asked, pointing to a small, flat fish sucked to the side of the large fish tank. "Why'd you get it?"  
  
"Too much color and too much algae," he answered, indicating the tetras and the tank decorations. "Ol' Ray here is the begining of a balance of color and dullness. It takes just the certain types of fish to make the perfect balance..."  
  
I blinked.  
  
"You okay, Greg?" I asked. "You sure they didn't whack you on the head when they were getting you out of you apartment?"  
  
He glared. "If I was crazy, why would you invite me into your house? You're smart enough to know insane people pose risks in a household surrounding. Didn't you write that paper?"  
  
"No," I said harshly. "I wrote the opposing paper. Entitled: Life With Rondy."  
  
Greg's eyes widened. "Holy-" he stared. "That was you? The crazy neighbor kid and- That was you?"  
  
I nodded slowly.  
  
"That was gre-"  
  
I cut him off. "Careful, Greg. You may actually praise me."  
  
He was silent. "You're right..." He shrugged. "Never mind it then."  
  
"We work today, you know," I said and went into my bedroom to find my car keys.  
  
I heard him picking up his crutches and opening the door. Dack and Jake were obviously there because he closed it back immediatly and muttered a few curses.  
  
We walked out of the door and went out to the car with Greg's every faithful watch dogs close at hand.  
  
***  
  
POV of Vice President Karol McShane:  
  
  
  
"Fifty dollars worth of shit!" I shouted and threw my alarm clock at the wall, breaking it into several pieces. I sometimes wondered in cases like that that, why I had declined the traditional Vice Presidential residence. I also wonder why I was allowed. One of those things I'll never know I suppose.  
  
It was almost noon and my alarm hadn't gone off. I'd got in early in the morning and needed to be up and awake dat seven. So much for that.  
  
I hurriedly got showered and dressed, running out the door with salt in my coffee and a mismatched pair of socks and shoes. I struggled with my keys and got my door unlocked only to find the battery was dead when I tried to start it up.  
  
I cursed several more times, threatening to sell the car to a chop shop as if it could understand me. Really, I wouldn't be surprised if it could.  
  
I heard someone walking up and approach the window. As he neared, I opened the car door with as much force as I could, sending the hooded man sailing to the ground. At about that time I began to wonder where my Secret Service agent, Tina Garcia, was.  
  
"Don't move," I told my assailant.  
  
He coughed and groaned. "God, Karol," he said faintly. "Trying to kill me?"  
  
"Ted!" I shouted upon recognizing the New York Senator. I pulled him up. "What are you doing here? Why aren't you at Chambers?"  
  
"Mary lives above you," he said. "She heard things breaking and being thrown and asked me to come and check on you. She thought someone had broken in. And we're not in session today. You oughta know that. You're idea."  
  
"I think I've broken in," I mumbled looking at Ted's bruised chest. "You'd better get to GW. Come on, I'll drive you."  
  
He looked at me odd. "Your car just broke down," he said.  
  
"I know," I replied. "That's why we're taking your car."  
  
Ted began to protest. "No one drives my car but me."  
  
I lightly poked him in the ribs and he gasped in pain. "Okay, okay," he relented and we got in his car and drove to GW.  
  
***  
  
POV of Senator Theodore Rockhimer  
  
  
  
I was in pain and she poked me! Here I am, harboring broken ribs and she pokes me! Now, it was probably good that I didn't drive, but she could have had Tina force me in the backseat gently instead of poking me! Okay, I'm done ranting.  
  
We got to GW and the ER doctors looked me over. Two broken ribs. Karol is very strong, though she might not look it. I don't know who called, but someone did, and upon discharge, we were surrounded by the press. I mean, come on. You'd think they'd have the decentcy to let you be bandaged up and keep it under wraps. (Bad pun, so what?)  
  
Tina pushed us through, taking up position behind the wheel this time in case there was a shooter around. She looked enough like Karol to draw the fire and allow the VP to escape.  
  
So the two of us sat in back. God, I was so nervous sitting there beside her. Things kept running through my mind. What should I say? What should I do? Does she think you're a wuss after that? She broke two ribs... She's very talented... accomplished...  
  
"Uh..." was all I could get out.  
  
She looked at me.  
  
"Uh... what?" she asked.  
  
"Ah..."  
  
"Ah..."  
  
I sighed. Karol could be annoying at times.  
  
"I was wondering... would you come to dinner with me?" I blurted out.  
  
Now, if Karol had been driving, I would have been thrown out of the car through the window because I know she would have slammed on the brakes due to her shock. Up front, Tina only grinned.  
  
Karol didn't say anything.  
  
I waved my hand infront of her face. "Karol?"  
  
"Why?" she asked as if I had a hidden agenda.  
  
"Because... I want to buy you food and talk and... get to know you?" I said. For two years I had had a schoolboy crush on her but had never built on it. The others would have made fun of us; all of them having families already.  
  
"Ah..." was Karol's response.  
  
"If you think your VP status won't allow it then I understand," I said quickly. Was I trying to back out? No, I convinced myself. I REALLY liked her, but was nervous. And things needed to be convient for her. Not me.  
  
"Ah..."  
  
"Ah..."  
  
She glared and I grinned.  
  
"Okay," she said. "When?"  
  
I broke into a wide smile. "Saturday night at eight." I saw Tina nod in the rear view mirror at Karol and took that as an okay. "Great. I'll pick you up then. Unless you want to drive there. Whatever you want. It's up to y-"  
  
"You pick me up. If we're going on a date we'll do it right."  
  
"Okay."  
  
"Good."  
  
"Yes."  
  
We arrived at Karol's apartment and Tina and Vice President got out. I got out and got infront, pain surging through my ribs but it faded after a few moments. "See you Saturday," I said.  
  
"You'll see me before that," she answered.  
  
"Yeah," I said. "But Saturday is the only day that will matter."  
  
*** 


	7. Family Ties

Family Ties  
  
  
  
POV of Senator Scott V. Wildman:  
  
DATE: 3/14/2016  
  
  
  
I used my day off to go to a doctor appointment with Annie. Most people would think it a trivial thing, going to the doctor. But for my family it wasn't. Mom asked Sam for the day off and came along with us to the hospital.  
  
We had a 1:30 appointment and we weren't seen until about an hour later than the appointment. The three of us, confident that all three of the babies would survive, decided to take that time to name them. All were boys, we'd found that out at the last appointment.  
  
After ten seconds, we were stumped.  
  
"How about we name them after authors?" I asked.  
  
Mom discarded that idea immediatly once I began give out the names of my favorites. What's so wrong about naming a kid Orson? Orson Scott Card did well with the name. Why couldn't my kid.  
  
"What about actors?" Annie suggested.  
  
"No. My kids are not going to have the names Kurt or Russel. Or Tom or... well, Cruise is kinda cool," I said. "But, No."  
  
So we were no where. And, in cases like that when one train of discussion ends, we went into politics. "Who was the first person you voted for?" Mom asked me.  
  
"Bartlet," I answered. "Second term."  
  
She nodded. "I always liked him. Voted for him, too. That was Annie's first vote, too."  
  
"Yeah," I said. "Then I voted for Daniels, didn't vote for Billings. I didn't like him. And then Sam. I don't vote stately. Except for Governor."  
  
The two of them nodded, speaking well of Daniels and Sam.  
  
"Well, there you go."  
  
The three of us looked to where the voice had come from. We saw the doctor standing there. "Sorry about the delay, I was with someone else. And then I didn't want to interupt your brainstorming. If you're ready we can go in now."  
  
Annie and Mom got up and proceeded to follow him but I said, "Wait. What do you mean, 'There you go?'"  
  
"The names," the doctor said. "You voted Bartlet, you get Josiah. You voted Daniels, you get Leopold. You voted Seaborn, you get Samuel." He shrugged. "We had a family do that before, but Senators that came before the husband, not Presidents."  
  
"Canfeld," I muttered, remembering him saying that a few years before. They'd had quints, a common risk when using fertility treatments.  
  
We walked in with the doctor, he looked over Annie. I sat at her side, worried like I was every time. I'd gone to every appointment since the election. Everything had been fine, since she went into labor before.  
  
The doctor placed the ultrasound equipment back on the cart.  
  
"Alright... everything seems to be progressing fine," he told them. "Three strong heart beats... now, you're due date is April 19th. But don't expect to care to term. I want you on strict bed rest the moment you get home."  
  
"Thanks, doc," I said and we turned to leave.  
  
"Take it easy, Annie!" he shouted after us. "The closer to term, the safer it is for the triplets."  
  
We walked out to the car and got in. "I think it's a good idea," Mom said.  
  
"What?" I asked.  
  
"Josiah, Leopold and Samuel."  
  
Annie nodded. "It's the only thing we have," she said.  
  
"I like it," I said. "Do you like it?"  
  
"I like it," Mom chimed it.  
  
"Then we're all in agreement," Annie said with a grin. "Sam, Leo and Joe."  
  
"Jed."  
  
Annie nodded then corrected herself. "Sam, Leo and Jed."  
  
I started laughing.  
  
Mom and Annie both looked at me.  
  
"Sam's gonna get a kick out of that," I told them. "Those were the names of three people in the Bartlet administration."  
  
"Should we change the names then?" she asked.  
  
I shook my head. "These are the only names we have. If we change them, the kids could end up being named Aristotle, Tree and Ferguson."  
  
"Hey! I like that!" Annie said, only half joking.  
  
I shook my head and started the car.  
  
***  
  
POV of Caleb Lyman, son of COS Joshua Lyman:  
  
  
  
Ezekiel Caleb Lyman. You know how much I'm made fun of for that name? That's why I go by the name Caleb. I hate Ezekiel and I hate Zeke. Just like Bruce goes by Bruce instead of his real name Elijah. I wouldn't mind Elijah though. But Ezekiel... what were my parents thinking?  
  
I hated going to Georgetown Academy. Every kid there belongs to some rich family or political family and they're all high on themselves. There were very few people there that didn't get on my nerves and even fewer that I saw more than once a day.  
  
Simon and Donovan were my best friends, still are. But they were also a grade higher than me and I only saw them during out combined lunch time. Plus, they were always followed around by John and Jake... or rather, Tiro for a while.  
  
"Hey, Caleb," Simon said and sat down at the outside picnic table with me, followed by Donovan.  
  
"What's up?"  
  
"Simon spit this huge spit ball in Daniel Patterson's ear!" Donovan exclaimed. "It was priceless. He told the teacher but from where he was spitting from, they couldn't pin on him."  
  
Simon nodded. "It was great."  
  
I grinned widely. Daniel Patterson was the meanest bully around. He was thirteen but in seventh grade due to his failing it the previous year. If it weren't for his father, Senator Frank Patterson, he'd be public school bound. But his father had made some "donations" to the school. So Daniel was still in.  
  
"He can't come after us either," Simon said. "Couldn't you see the headlines? 'Sentor's Son Attacks President's Sons Unprovoked.'"  
  
"That'd be great," I agreed.  
  
After a fight I'd gotten into with him over his bumping into me, the three of us were always plotting revenge. Whenever Daniel came around, the two of them would walk close behind me like they were my bodygaurds. That added to the fact that the Secret Service agents walked behind them, always intimidated Daniel and kept him away. And in class, the twins would toss pieces of paper and spit spitballs at him.  
  
Lunch wasn't long and that sucked. I'd have much rather had an hour or something for lunch. Because after lunch, I was stuck in class with fifteen other kids who hated me.  
  
When I got home, it wasn't much better. All of our neighbors either hated me or were too little to play with. Sometimes I'd hang with Bruce, who was the coolest member of the family.  
  
But then Bruce would go out and play for awhile and I'd be stuck with TV and the internet.  
  
I felt more at home at school with the twins than I did at home with my family.  
  
***  
  
POV of Petunia Goshhook:  
  
  
  
It took them a while, but the Leader and the others convinced me to go back to the White House. With me I took my son, Harold and my daughter Mary Ellen. Two cuter children there never were. It was after school, of course. My children would never miss a day of school unless they were sick. What good would they do the human race if they were stupid, illeterate beings?  
  
The two of them are junior members of the Divine Order of Human Supremity. There were only ten junior members and my two were the best of the bunch. So much like Mommy. I was so proud.  
  
We walked in with a group of tourists and were showed around. Because the Leader doubted Tymes would be walking around, it was Mary Ellen's job to seperate from the group and go looking for him and gather information about him and those around him.  
  
We'd come to the blue room and I watched proudly as she slipped off to do her duty.  
  
***  
  
POV of Mary Ellen Goshhook:  
  
  
  
I heard the recording Mother had made. It made me so mad. How could this man say such mean things? He himself was human. How could he hate them?  
  
The Leader had drilled his name into my mind, not that I needed it. Gregory Tymes was all over the papers. It was all I could do to keep from jumping up in the middle of school and saying proudly that I was in the group responsible for his injuries.  
  
It wasn't hard to sneak into the West Wing. The Leader had shown me some blue prints before I left for my mission. I was supposed to find out it people really knew that he was evil or not and if they accepted him despite our warnings.  
  
"You're *evil*," a young man said to an older man.  
  
I turned my head to immediately see Gregory Tymes. He was standing by his office with a red haired intern looking over a speech I suppose. Something in a black folder.  
  
That was all I needed. That other man had confirmed that the staff knew that Tymes was evil and they didn't care. They still let him walk around like a normal human being despite the fact he wasn't. But I stayed a little longer to see if I could get any more information  
  
Tymes shrugged and grabbed his crutch. He patted the man's back and turned to re-enter his office when he was plowed into by a little boy.  
  
"Gweg! Gweg!" he shouted and dove behind him for shelter. "Save me!"  
  
Tymes laughed as I watched two Secret Service men run up after the boy. "He giving you guys a hard time?"  
  
One of the agents growled something in respose.  
  
"Better watch it or those looneys after me will turn on you," Tymes joked. Joked! He thinks what we do is a joke!  
  
Tymes turned and picked the boy up in one arm. "What are you doing here anyways, Toby?"  
  
My jaw dropped. That little boy was Toby Seaborn? The President's own son was treating this man almost like an uncle or friend. I shook my head. They really did know how evil Tymes was. I almost burst into tears. I thought the United States Government was the best example of human supremity. But I found out that day that it wasn't. It was a sad day for me.  
  
I snuck back out and told my mother and brother everything.  
  
We all got in the car and drove over to the Leader's house, knowing full well what had to happen.  
  
*** 


	8. Dinners and a Movie

Dinners and a Movie  
  
  
  
POV of Senator Ted Rockhimer:  
  
DATE: 3/18/2016  
  
  
  
It was Friday. It was the day I was taking Vice President Karol McShane out for dinner. God, was I nervous. I mean, I'd known her for years. I'd had dinner with her for years. But *never* alone. Not without the others. Tonight was the night I twas taking her out. Alone.  
  
Okay, okay, not alone. She had a security detail and we had a private part of the resturant cleared for us. Plus the media that always hovered around when the President or Vice President did anything remotely intresting or personal. But, other than that, it was alone.  
  
I picked her up right when I said I would, eight o'clock sharp.  
  
My car was gone over with a fine tooth comb. The seats were removed, the trunk searched... they even checked behind my mirrors. Like I was stupid enough to be a suicide bomber or something.  
  
Karol was escorted out of her apartment building by a Secret Service agent and the passenger side door was opened. I smiled as she sat down beside me.  
  
A car set off infront of us and I pulled out after it. Behind us trailed too more cars.  
  
"This is fun, huh?" Karol said sarcastically. "I might not run for VP next year. Just because of these goons."  
  
I grinned. "They're not t hat bad," I defended them. "They're just doing their job."  
  
She gave me a look. "It's not a good idea to argue with your date," she warned.  
  
"Right," I said. "Sure thing, Madam Vice President."  
  
"Call me that again and there isn't going to be a second date."  
  
I just grinned. Here i was with the woman I'd been in love with since we'd first met going out to a fancy resturant. This was going to be one of the best nights of my life.  
  
We arrived at 8:45 PM and entered the resturant arm in arm.  
  
***  
  
POV of Press Secretary Jenna Clark:  
  
  
  
"This is really romantic Bobby," I said sarcastically.  
  
He'd said we were going to go out to eat together and where did we end up? Burger King. I don't even like Burger King. Yet some sacrifices have to be made. He was following the McShane-Rockhimer relationship and though I couldn't be seen, I decided to tag along.  
  
He grinned at me. "Well, I can't take a woman dressed up in a floppy hat and heavy coat into a fine resturant," he jested.  
  
It was true. To hide who I was, I was in a very heavy jacket and floppy denim hat that covered most of my face. I also wore large dark sunglasses to cover up my eyes.  
  
We finished out burgers and fries and walked to the resturant. Outside, Secret Service men were clearing the way for the Vice President and Senator Rockhimer. We weren't able to get very close and the other photographers and reporters weren't making it easy.  
  
Bobby sighed. "I need to get some pictures..."  
  
"Well, you're never going to get them from this far off," I remarked.  
  
"Thanks for stating the obvious," he retored.  
  
"That's my job."  
  
"Well, *mine* is to get the story," Bobby said. "And I can't from this distance.  
  
I sighed. This guy is so fixated on work sometimes. "Come on," I said and we slowly began to inch to the back of the place. I glanced around nervously many times, hoping no one recognized me.  
  
Looking back now, I can imagine how suspicious I looked. I was all dressed in heavy clothes, covering my face and glancing around. Plus, we were sneaking around to the back of the resturant.  
  
"What are we doing?" Bobby asked me.  
  
I told him to can it and we walked in the back of the resturant. No one hindered our movements and we easily set up for the perfect photo. Bobby quickly snapped off a picture from the doors leading to the kitchen.  
  
"Put the camera down."  
  
I looked behind me and saw a pair of Secret Service agents behind us, guns pointed at the backs of our heads. I remember thinking, 'Oh my God. The President is going to be so ticked.'  
  
Bobby put the camera down and the Secret Service men ordered us to stand up. We did so and it was at that time that McShane noticed us.  
  
She walked over to see what was going on and I, with permission from the agents, took off my hat and glasses. "Madam Vice President," I said in a weak voice. "I'm *so* sorry about ruining your dinner."  
  
Senator Rockhimer began to laugh.  
  
I gave Bobby a confused look.  
  
"Karol was just saying it would take an assassination attempt to get this night going," he explained.  
  
"N-no!" Bobby responded. "We're not trying assassinate anyone. Really!"  
  
Both of them grinned. I died inside. I mean, the Vice President of the United States was practically laughing at me. Bobby was horrified thinking he was going to get in trouble and fired.  
  
"Come on," Rockhimer said to us. "Why don't you come and join us?"  
  
Bobby gave a surprised choaking sound.  
  
"Yeah, come on," the VP told us. "Ted here isn't half as intresting as he thinks he is."  
  
"I am too!" Rockhimer defended.  
  
If I wasn't worried about getting arrested, fired or both, I would have laughed at them. They were just like Bobby and me.  
  
We couldn't decline their offer. Hello! They were the Vice President of the United States and a high placing US Senator who thought we were trying to assassinate them. Believe me, when you're asked to eat with someone that thinks you're trying to kill them, it's better to accept than be taken to jail.  
  
I did learn later that only Ted thought we were assassins. Karol had known who we were the entire time and wasn't worried.  
  
I was on edge the rest of the night. I talked very little but Bobby got right in there and talked away to them. They even gave him some quotes and a couple more pictures. He had the best night of his career. I was just worried about mine ending.  
  
After dinner, Karol had an agent escort us out the back. Once we get into the alley, the agent left and we stood standing there for a few moments. Then, "If Seaborn finds out, I'm going to kill you!" I yelled at Bobby.  
  
He started laughing.  
  
***  
  
POV of Simon Seaborn:  
  
  
  
When you're the son of the President of the United States, there aren't a lot of things you are allowed to do. And if you can convince your parents and the Secret Service to allow you to do something, there is going to be a whole lot of caos. I know. My father was the President and I've learned about all this from first hand experiences.  
  
My twin brother never had problems with our dad being President. Our agents were our best friends. We both wanted to be Secret Service agents, being named after one ourselves. Simon Donovan. Great man. The Service even made our code names commemorated him: Hero for me and Friend for Donovan. Even though few of the agents ever knew Agent Donovan.  
  
Anyways, here we were, two twelve year olds who also happened to be the sons of the President. It wasn't easy for us to have normal lives.  
  
But Mom made sure we did. Once, early in our first year in the White House, we were invited by some friends to go to a movie. Blackwell was against it, but with help from Mom, John and Tiso, he relented.  
  
It is very hard to secure a movie theater. Yet, they accomplished it. Donovan and I were so embarrased. We got seats right in the middle and the row in front of us and the one behind us were empty except for a pair of agents sitting right behind us.  
  
Our friends (Sargent Dawson, Elyza Wood and Zeena Robins) didn't mind, there were glad to have such good seats.  
  
Now, I can't remember the film any more. But I do vividly remember that night.  
  
The movie was over and the group of us were walking to the front door, escorted by Tiso and my temporary agent, Cutter.  
  
There were several gunshots. I didn't see much, Tiso grabbed me and rushed into another theater, pulling me and Donovan behind him. Cutter pulled the others in behind us and told us to stay low in the front row. He stood with us, gaurding the right entrance and the exit. Tiso went outside a dove back in, due to gun fire.  
  
"Theater... 7," he said into his walkie talkie. "Bring the car around. Hero and Friend not secure. Repeat. Theater 7. Hero and Friend NOT secure."  
  
Just as he shouted that, the right entrance burst open and there were several shots.  
  
The five of us ran out of the row and ran to the exit. Tiso exited first to find Agent Zimmer with the car. Cutter was still in the theater, covering us. Tiso opened the back, looked into to confirm that it really was Zimmer and then pushed us all in, getting in right behind us.  
  
***  
  
POV of Donovan Seaborn:  
  
  
  
We never saw Cutter again. As we were leaving, three people rushed in. He was able to hold them off but he wasn't able to get all three of them. Harlan Cutter died that day in the front row of Theater 7. Not many people know that. But, if you look closely, you'll see the words 'Harlan Cutter: Secret Service Agent and Friend' right where me and Simon carved it on the side of the first chair.  
  
That night, Zimmer blazed straight to the gates of the White House with no escort or anything. One minute we were behind the movie theater, the next we were at the White House.  
  
Several agents ushered me and Simon into the building. I looked behind us to see Tiso leading Sarge, Eliza and Zeena into the Roosevelt Room.  
  
We were led straight to the Oval Office.  
  
Jeff held the door open as we entered, and inside we saw Mom and Dad.  
  
"Mom!" Simon shouted and ran to hug her.  
  
"Dad!" I shouted and ran to him.  
  
The four of us held each other in a big hug for a moment before Dad pushed me back by my shoulders and looked me over. "You okay, son?" he asked  
  
I nodded and Simon did too.  
  
"Are the others okay?" I asked him but the question was forgotten when we heard a groan behind us.  
  
John was being held up by Jeff and another agent. I ran over to him.  
  
"John?"  
  
He gave me a weak sm ile. "I'm okay, kid," he said. But I knew he wasn't. People that were okay didn't walk around with blood on their shirts.  
  
The agent led the wounded John out and I saw father nod to Jeff before he followed them out. "He'll be fine," Dad reassured me.  
  
"Are the others okay?" Simon asked my forgotten question.  
  
"They're fine," Blackwell responded, walking in. "They're in the Roosevelt Room waiting for their parents to come get them."  
  
By now Dad had gotten over the shock of his kids nearly being killed and demanded to know who was behind the attacks. Blackwell admitted that they had no idea. The bodies had all been removed by the attackers. None of their dead were left behind to help the Secret Service identify any of the attackers.  
  
"Did we lose anyone?"  
  
"Yes, Mr. President," Blackwell told. "Agents Harlan Cutter and Pearl Goldblum."  
  
I almost cried thinking of Harlan all alone there in that theater.  
  
Dad sighed. "Mallory, why don't you take the boys to their room."  
  
Mom nodded and we walked out of the Oval Office with three agents. Before, we'd never really thought about our dad's position and how much danger we could be in. We found out that night.  
  
***  
  
POV of Karol McShane:  
  
  
  
We were in the car heading back to my apartment when one of the walkie talkies I'd gotten from one of the agents came on and told me what had happened to Sam's boys. Ted drove me home and stayed as we called Sam.  
  
I was connected just as the agents admitted Senator Mary Ortz who lives right above me into my apartment. I put it on speaker phone so we could all hear.  
  
"Sam? Are they okay?" I asked.  
  
"Hey, Karol... how was dinner? Is Ted still there?"  
  
I rolled my eyes. "Sam."  
  
"They're fine, Karol," he answered. "We lost two agents and Donovan's is in pretty bad condition so he's upset. But them and their friends are all fine."  
  
There was a collective sigh of relief from Mary, Ted and me.  
  
"Any idea who did it, sir?" Ted asked.  
  
"Hello, Ted," Sam said. "You, too, Mary."  
  
"Yes, Mr. President."  
  
Sam sighed and I could tell that it was eating him up that he didn't know before he even admitted to not knowing. "No, we don't know, Ted. Blackwell is on it."  
  
"We'll find out who it was," I told him.  
  
"You're right," the President responded. "We will."  
  
*** 


	9. America's Sympathy

America's Sympathy  
  
  
  
*** President Seaborn:  
  
You openly associate with the anti-humanist of the name of Gregory Tymes as if he were a normal human being. He is NOT. He is a vile creature who hates humans and will be an insturment of the downfall of our great race. You give him the chance by employing him in our government. Because of this, we've been brough aware of the fact that our great country no longer works. You and your family and the entire government are nothing but evil. Pure evil. You must be eliminated from the face of the Earth. Out of humane respect, you're end will be as quick as we can make it. Do not worry about that, Mr. President. I'm truely sorry about this all. But you all brought it on yourself. One of our members saw your own young son embracing Tymes as a father and friend. That was the last straw I'm afraid. May God, our great maker, have mercy on your souls. We, however, cannot. ***  
  
POV of Lisa Morris:  
  
DATE: 3/20/2016  
  
  
  
On Sunday, a bunch of us attended a memorial service for the two agents killed by the Human Supremists. Reverand Jillian Moore Dennings was like the unofficial White House preacher or something. She was always doing services for those working there, chiefly because her four siblins all worked there.  
  
I'd seen Agent Cutter around before, just like everyone else. He was on several different duties, Eagle and Osprey. He hung around the Lobby sometimes, the Oval Office. Even though we were only into our third month in the White House, the Seaborn Administration had suffered a great blow.  
  
Greg's agent changed, Jake and his sister both took off to be with their brother during his surgery. The bullet that had hit him had done more damage than anyone had thought. But after a few surgeries, the agent would be back and ready for action, Jake assured us.  
  
So work went about normally.  
  
Until the letter arrived.  
  
That letter marked us all. Now, Greg, he laughed.  
  
"I'm vile?" he jested. "A new word. I'm no longer just evil. I'm vile too!"  
  
Hell, I whacked him outside his head. "Well, thanks to you, the rest of us are targets now!"  
  
I was ticked off. It really *was* his fault if you look at it. He's the one that said he hated people in the White House. Not me. Not Sean or Petey... it was him. Gregory Tymes nearly got burnt to death because of Gregory Tymes.  
  
About half an hour after I said that, Petey came up to me and he said, "My God, Lisa. What's wrong with you? He already felt guilty. You didn't have to go yelling at him!"  
  
Then he stalked off.  
  
I was so... ashamed? I mean, of course, Greg must have been feeling badly. He knew that it was his remark that had started this. For a moment, I wondered why I gave a damn. Normally, I'd pan for reasons to insult Greg. But... I'd really hurt him this time. Without even meaning to.  
  
With a heavy sigh, I walked over to his office.  
  
His door was open so I looked in. He was sitting behind his desk, chair facing the window.  
  
"Greg?"  
  
He spun around to face me with a bottle of cheap beer in his hand. "Hey," Greg greeted me, his voice a bit slurred.  
  
I sighed.  
  
"Greg..." I looked out of the office and shouted out to Petey, "Petey! Get me a cup of coffee."  
  
Petey had soon returned with a cup of steaming coffee and I wasn't sure if I should force it down his throat or throw it on him. Each method had different sobering effects. In the end I decided that making him drink it was the best way. Scalding him would just bring up more questions.  
  
He drank it willingly, then I stayed with him in his dark office until he was sobered up.  
  
"What do you want?" he asked me once he had a hold on things.  
  
"I came to apologize," I told him. "I shouldn't have said it was your fault."  
  
Greg dismissed it with a wave of his hand. "It really is my fault," he said. "I mean, if I hadn't said that I hated people, nothing would have happened. I'd be living back in my apartment, those two agents would still be alive, and Seaborn's kids wouldn't be scarred by their assassination attempt. You don't just get over those things you know."  
  
I touched his hand. "Greg?" I said softly. "Are you sure you're over *your* encounter?"  
  
"I'm alive aren't I?" Greg asked. "I'm fine. But... what if *you* were responsible for the deaths of two people and could be responsible for the deaths of many more?"  
  
"You're not," I told him firmly.  
  
"I am," he said back.  
  
I sighed. "Eryk told me that you'd need me to call your psychiatrist at some point."  
  
Greg grinned. "I'm fine. I really am," he said. Then he groaned as he stood up. "Turn that light on. We've got work to do."  
  
"Sure thing, boss."  
  
  
  
***  
  
POV of Jenna Clark:  
  
  
  
"Come on, Jenna!" White House reporter Dale Brecker shouted. "We need this story. We're running on nothing."  
  
I sighed. "Don't you guys have better things to do on Sundays?"  
  
"No," came the collective response.  
  
I rolled my eyes. "Look, guys, I've told you what I can. We're looking into the attack. I can tell you that it is most definately connected to the attack on the White House Director of Communications Gergory Tymes but I am not autherized to reveal if we know the source of t he attacks."  
  
"So you know who did it your just not telling us?" Marrisa Plank asked.  
  
"I didn't say that," I told her.  
  
"You didn't deny it either, Jenn," Jerry Elyzibeth Mallacoshi pointed out.  
  
I heard a low whistle and saw Josh Lyman motion for me to come over to the door for a moment. "I'll be right back," I told them.  
  
"You're too buddy-buddy with the press, Jenna, they're eating you alive," he remarked.  
  
"I know," I said reluctantly. "But I *was* one of them you know. I can't exactly turn my back on that. Plus, I'm dating Bobby..."  
  
"He's the best one out there," President Seaborn said as he walked up. "Not bombarding you with all these questions..."  
  
I nodded. "That's true, Mr. President."  
  
"He's gonna go out there," Josh said to me and then it hit me.  
  
I walked back out to the podium and said, "Ladies and Gentlemen please welcome the President of the United States."  
  
Everyone snapped to attention and stood up as he walked into the Press Room. Several cameras flashed and the reporters were all smiles, jotting down notes. There were several shouts of "Mr. President!" as he came out but he dismissed them all.  
  
He stood at the podium for a while before the reporters settled down.  
  
"Mr. President," Bobby said, standing up. "Are you going to release the identies people behind the attacks on Gregory Tymes and your sons?"  
  
Seaborn nodded. "Yes, Bobby, I will," he said. "It was a humanistic cult. They believe that due to a remark by Mr. Tymes that the American Government is evil and they are striking back. Well, I'm here to tell them that we're not going to take it. You don't attempt to kill my children and my staff without and get away with it. We will find those responsible and they will be dealt with accordingly. Thank you."  
  
There was silence for several moments. Then the press started asking questions.  
  
"That's all," Josh said. "Thank you."  
  
Several reporters shouted out questions as the President walked out but he didn't give them any regard. I walked back up to the podium then noticed Josh motion for me to follow them. "That's it everyone, hopefully you have enough information to write your stories now," I said and then follwed them out among several calls of "Thanks, Jenn."  
  
***  
  
POV of Gregory Tymes:  
  
  
  
I'd been showed a copy of a letter that named me as the reason Simon and Donovan Seaborn had been shot at and nearly killed. It also stated that because of my employment at the White House, the entire government was subject to similiar attacks.  
  
I typed up and handed in my resignition that morning to Josh. But he didn't accept it. I told him, "I'm resigning and that's that."  
  
"No you're not," he replied. "Because if you just leave, it won't change things. They'll have one more victory and keep on coming after us."  
  
Believe me, it made sense not to give in to their wishes. So I went back to work and when the others were shown the letter, I cracked a joke. Boy was that a mistake. Lisa took my head off.  
  
She made the fact that it was all my fault stick in my mind. I needed a drink. I hadn't planned on having three of them. I just did. When she came back to apologize, I did what she told me to do to sober up. She apologized and we went back to work. End of story.  
  
Well, I was with Josh and the President during the President's little press release. It was said with a flare of defiance, just daring those cult people to take their best shot.  
  
I walked after Josh, Jenna and the President... and his ever present Secret Service agents.  
  
We entered the Oval Office through the President's outer office and Mrs. C and Jeff got up and followed us in. Already waiting inside were Castor Blackwell, Wil Parks, Lisa Morris, Sean, Petey and several of our other aides.  
  
Seaborn walked over to his desk and leaned on it. "Everyone here," he said, "is getting a Secret Service detail. You are all going to sign the papers I hand you and take a detail."  
  
"Samuel Norman Seaborn, I will not sign a paper and take on a detail," Mrs. C said. "I'm not going to go trapsing around with a person following my every move."  
  
Josh stiffled a laugh at Mrs. C saying the President's full name. None of the rest of us would have been able to get away with it, not even Josh.  
  
"I've got three grandkids I'll have to look over and I don't need a man with a gun always underfoot."  
  
Seaborn sighed. "Mrs. C, you're as much a target as the rest of us, you know?" he told her. "You're just putting those three at risk... Scott and Annie too. An agent will be there to protect the lot of you."  
  
She looked like she might protest some more but she didn't. I was hit with guilt again. Now, Senator Wildman's children were at risk because of me as well.  
  
The President handed out the pieces of paper he'd been talking about. They authorized three men teams on all of us. Being that Lisa and I were currently roommates, we were getting a conjoined observation team and a bodyguard each.  
  
After everyone had signed, even Mrs. C, Seaborn dismissed everyone. Except me that is. He said, "Greg. Hang on a moment."  
  
My heart sank. He was going to yell at me wasn't he? Be mad. "Yes, sir?"  
  
"You do good work," he told me. "Schumer said so himself. Convinced me to keep you on."  
  
I nodded. "I bet you're sorry you listened," I remarked.  
  
Seaborn shook his head. "I'm not."  
  
***  
  
Excerpt of Several National Newspapers on March 21, 2016:  
  
"...attacks cowardly and unprevoked in the opion of this reporter..." - Birmingham Post-Hearld  
  
"...cowardly attack on the children of the President. This shocks the nation. Those could have been anyone's children... Three friends of the Seaborn twins were accompanying them that night... are these people so sadistic they'd gun down five innocent children in a movie theater?..." - Bradenton Hearld  
  
"...We fully support President Seaborn's crusade to find those responsible for the attacks on his children, staffer and the new threat to the entire staff..." - Reporter's Hearld  
  
"...America responds to the attacks in shock and utter support for the newly taken office President..." - Houston Chronicle  
  
"...cult attacks President's twin sons at a movie theater with friends... two agents killed protecting them... The hearts of millions of Americans go out to the Presidential family and the families of those agents killed in the line of duty..." - The Flint Journal  
  
"...President vows revenge on cult behind the attacks on his son and White House Communications Director, Gregory Tymes... America has shown full support of the President after the attacks..." - The Des Moines Register  
  
"...Simon and Donovan Seaborn both well... attack cowardly... President to find attackers and deal with them accordingly... Here in Amarillo, Senator Dale Jasper (R) vows support to the President as does Senator Scott Wildman (R) who is in DC at the time... Texans from all over as well as all America are showing support by outrage on internet message boards and letters to the editor..." - Amarillo Globe-ros  
  
***  
  
From Time For Kids Magazine (3/21/2016): Interview of Mrs. Langley's 7th Grade Class by Teen Reporter Tim Galliger:  
  
GALLIGER: Now, I'm here with Mrs. Langley's 7th Grade Class at Clear Creek Middle School, Richardson, TX.  
  
STUDENTS: Clear Creek Crawfish!  
  
GALLIGER: When you all heard about what happened to the President's two boys, what did you think?  
  
STEPHANIE YOUNGS: That it could have been me and my friends.  
  
DENIS RAZOWSKI: Yeah! How would *you* feel if someone came in and shot you while you were trying to watch a movie?  
  
GALLIGER: What do you think of the people who did this? President Seaborn announced yesterday that it was a cult that did this.  
  
BENJAMIN BROCKHERST: They're stupid.  
  
JAMAL PETERS: They're like the KKK of today. Even worse if you ask me.  
  
GALLIGER: The entire government is now the target of this cult.  
  
YOUNGS: That's stupid.  
  
BRITTANY DAWSON: Just because Greg Tymes said something that offended them doesn't mean he's a bad person.  
  
GALLIGER: So do you support the President in his attempts to hunt these people down?  
  
STEVEN DANSEN: Yup.  
  
PETERS: Sure, do.  
  
RAZOWSKI: I'm glad he says he's gonna find 'em. Someone goes after your kids, I'd expect you to go after them full force.  
  
GALLIGER: Thank you all. And you Mrs. Langley.  
  
*** 


	10. The Shadow Knows

The Shadow Knows  
  
  
  
POV of Jenna Clark:  
  
DATE: 3/21/2016  
  
  
  
She was standing in my office waiting for me that morning. I'd never had a Secret Service detail... for my entire career I'd practically loathed them. For years, they'd kept me from getting near to the President to snap pictures. Of course I knew they were doing their job. But couldn't they have done it from more of a distance right?  
  
"Agent Bloomberg," I stated not asked.  
  
"Ms. Clark," my new agent, Jessie Bloomberg nodded.  
  
"I don't like you people, you're aware of that right?" I said.  
  
She nodded. "Very much aware. We all still remember what happened to Agent Howzer."  
  
I whinced. The year before I had... I had accidentally hit an agent when I was driving. It was seriously an accident, you can check the investigation report. He'd been about to cross the road when this sports car had zipped through a red light and nearly plowed into me. I'd turned to avoid the other car and hit the unfortunate agent. For weeks Bobby taunted me saying, "God, Jenn. We all hate them but atleast *we* don't run them down!"  
  
"That was an accident," I defended.  
  
Bloomberg nodded. "Whatever you say."  
  
I rolled my eyes and grabbed my folder with everything I was authorized to release snug inside waiting to be gobbled up the blood sucking press. Just kidding!  
  
My new agent opened the door for me and walked out before me, staying at my side as we walked the same route I had for three months.  
  
Before I walked in, I took a deep breath. I knew everyone out in that room personally. I was dating Bobby and good friends with several others. Now, here I was, walking in there looking like a wussy with a babysistter.  
  
I walked in and over to the podium. I was grateful to Bloomberg that she stood behind me and out of the way.  
  
"Jenna!" Jerry Elyzibeth called out. "Is this part of the new security plan for White House staff?"  
  
"Just those of us stupid enough to take high-ranking positions," I responded.  
  
Keid Ramsie raised his hand and I pointed to him. "Can you be specific as to who is being given these details and confirmation if you are really taking this seriously?"  
  
"Keid, we've got agents. We're taking this seriously," I answered. "And who has them? We all have them. Even my secretary."  
  
"The Treasury department can do that without exhausting their supply of agents?" Dale Brecker asked.  
  
"They're people, Dale, not pieces of office equipment," I said. "And they can do this and are glad to be doing this. There job is to protect and... they're protecting. Moving on."  
  
I went along with the Press Release, announcing the Presiden't support for a law coming down hard on the need for a good standard of computer chip stabability and other good stuff. I also announced at the end that my birthday was in two weeks and anyone wishing to send me a gift had better do send it to the White House because my mail at home was being chopped up and dismantled. Then opened. The remark brought several chuckles and I left the room with good spirits.  
  
Besides the babysitter, that day wasn't all bad.  
  
***  
  
POV of Jeff Moore:  
  
  
  
Everyone was back into work. Juline was back on Eagle and Jake was back to gaurding Gregory Tymes, much to his dismay. I didn't have it to bad when I walked into work that morning. I looked over to see an unhappy Mrs. C sitting at her desk with an agent sitting in an uncomfortable chair by the door. I nodded to the agent whom I knew.  
  
My agent, however, I was unfamiliar with. She was older than me by about ten years give or take and had the strictest look on her face.  
  
"Jefferson Moore?" she asked me.  
  
"Yeah..." I replied. "I'm Jeff Moore."  
  
"I'm Agent Dana Carlston," she said.  
  
I looked at her face once more to try and remember her but I couldn't. "Good to meet you Agent Carlston." Why couldn't my shadow have been someone I knew?  
  
She nodded and took a seat opposite the door from Agent Percy Jamison.  
  
The door burst open and both agents jumped up, guns in their hands.  
  
"Mrs. C! Mrs. C!" little Josh and Toby Seaborn shouted and rushed in. I watched the two agents relax as they recognized the two boys and the agents that soon ran in after them. Poor Fisher and Nix... Jake and John said that the twins were fine but I couldn't imagine being stuck with those two.  
  
Mrs. C smiled widely and grabbed a tupperware container of fresh brownies. I grinned when I noticed a piece already missing. President Seaborn always got the first piece. Or rather, Juline did. *Then* the President.  
  
"Can we see Daddy?" Toby asked me after licking his fingers clean of chocolate.  
  
"He's in a meeting right now," I told the boy. "With the Chief of Staff."  
  
"Uncle Josh," Josh Seaborn said.  
  
"You can wait though," Percy spoke up from where he sat. "The meeting can't be *that* long." Then he looked at me. "Can it?"  
  
I shook my head. "Percy's right. You two can wait... and look what I have for you to play with," I said and pulled out a set of extra model Star Wars ships I'd put together for situations such as those.  
  
They shouted in glee and grabbed the ships, making laser noises and running around the office. Josh even wrangled in Percy, handing him a Slave I model for him and Toby to shoot at.  
  
There are two things that can get you instantly into Mrs. C's heart. If you're good with kids or smart enough to compliment her upon your first meeting. Percy hadn't met the requirements for the latter entrance, but still got in. After a moment of mental confliction, he got up and ran around with the two boys.  
  
This next part is hilarious. Pay attention.  
  
There was a click and the door to the Oval Office opened. Standing there, was the President of the United States along with Chief of Staff Joshua Lyman.  
  
Everything froze, even Josh and Toby.  
  
Percy's face was pale white and after the intial shock was over, he began muttering apologies and placed the model on my desk.  
  
Seaborn grinned, not saying anything to the agent, and permitted the little boys inside his office. Once the door was firmly shut, Fisher looked at Percy and said, "You screwed up *SO* bad."  
  
Nix, Fisher and me burst out laughing. It was hilarious. You should have seen the look on Percy's face. Priceless.  
  
But Mrs. C, she didn't laugh. She looked at the red faced Percy and asked, "Would you like a brownie dear?"  
  
Needless to say, the rest of us didn't get any brownies that day.  
  
***  
  
POV of Wil Parks  
  
  
  
I'd come in late that morning. *Very* late. I normally get in at about five but I'd had a dentist appointment so I didn't get in until about nine. Everyone else had their agents sitting around and I wondered where mine was. He wasn't waiting for me outside my door. I shrugged and entered.  
  
There was a snort and I jumped backwards. Cautiously, I peered and saw someone asleep on my love seat.  
  
"What are you doin?" Lisa stopped and asked.  
  
"Someone's in my office," I told her.  
  
She peered in. "There is. Huh."  
  
"What's 'huh'?" Jenna asked when she saw the two of us.  
  
Lisa answered, "There's someone in Wil's office."  
  
She peered in and then looked over to the two of us. "Huh."  
  
"What's going on?"  
  
We all turned to see Greg.  
  
"There is someone asleep in Wil's office and we don't know who it is," Jenna told him.  
  
Greg peered in. "Someone poke it."  
  
We all gave him an odd look. He sighed and left then soon returned with a yard stick.  
  
"Well... poke it," I said.  
  
"No, you poke it," he thrust the yard stick into my hands.  
  
I shook my head. "It was your idea. *You* poke it."  
  
Lisa sighed. "Give me the damn stick."  
  
I handed it to her and moved out of the way so he could lean into the office and poke the figure on the love seat. She manuvered the stick to poke his shoe. There was no response. She continued prodding the bottom of his feet until she got mad and poked the person in the gut.  
  
He yelped and jumped up, gun in his hand and pointed at the door. We all scrambled back as he opened the door and saw the four of us huddled on the floor.  
  
I gave a weak grinned. "Uh... hi."  
  
***  
  
POV of Greg Tymes:  
  
  
  
After the incident with Wil's new agent, we all went back to work. Our own agents didn't neccisarily have to follow us around the White House. They were very confident that is was safe. I mean, the President lives there. If it wasn't safe they'd move him or something.  
  
Seaborn was hindered by the on going Presidential legacy of the destruction of nuclear weapons. However, it wasn't Russia he was working with. It was Iraq. Under the leadership of Samir Gahfadi, they'd reached peace. Sorta.  
  
The hard working Lisa and I were working on nailing the speech he'd be giving at a summit in London.  
  
"Greg," Lisa said. "I'm confused. So... we like Iraq?"  
  
"No."  
  
"Then why are we even bothering with the summit?"  
  
"We like their oil," I told her.  
  
She nodded and we went back to work.  
  
Writing a speech can be hard. It really can. And when the topic is the same as it has been for twenty years, it can get boring. But still...  
  
"I need a fish tank," I said.  
  
She just looked at me weird. "You *have* a fish tank in the apartment."  
  
"No," Greg said. "I mean, I need one in here."  
  
"Why?"  
  
"Because I do," I answered.  
  
"What about feeding them? There are times you're not here."  
  
"Lisa. I'm here everyday. And when I'm not, I can get Terrika or Missy to feed them."  
  
Lisa shook her head. "Whatever," she said. "Good luch getting it cleared by the Secret Service."  
  
I grinned and put a paper down on the table. "Blackwell already cleared it."  
  
She sighed and got back to typing.  
  
I chuckled and began rewording the begining of the speech.  
  
***  
  
POV of Presidential Secretary Allison Campbell:  
  
  
  
I didn't understand what the whole big deal was. I could see the senior staff getting protection but why did I have to? I'm not that frail you know. I'm a big girl who can take care of herself. Yet no matter how many times I told that to Samuel, he wouldn't relent.  
  
Percy wasn't as bad as I had thought he would be though. He is a very nice young man, reminds me of my son who I lost in the Afghanistan conflict.  
  
Jeff, too, reminds me of my son. They all did. You can ask anyone, I practically adopted the entire West Wing. I always baked cookies or brownies or bought doughnuts on my way to the White House for everyone. It was very common for everyone to come in at some point... Wil especially. That boy has a sweet tooth countered by no one.  
  
I knew everyone in the Seaborn White House. I mean *everyone*. I made sure that everyone got a cookie or brownie atleast once a week. I'd even make a special plate for the Communications bullpen and another for the staff bullpen. They keep them so busy in there.  
  
The White House is like a big family. It really is. Especially with the five Seaborn kids running around. Nothings ever the same as yesterday. It can be tiring but if you were to ask around, no one would give it up for anything.  
  
*** 


End file.
